Kristen Ashley - Wildest Dreams

“By all means,” Calder muttered to Frey then he turned his head to his father. “If you would, I will ask you and Mother to make haste in your move to the dower house. Melba has long been telling me she thought new curtains would be lovely in the drawing room.” Eirik blinked at his son while Calder finished, “And the study.”

I couldn’t help it, a snort escaped and my eyes shot to Aurora who I saw gazing impassively at the sheen on the dining room table but when she felt my eyes, hers lifted to mine and I saw them twinkling.

“This is outrageous!” Eirik shrieked and I looked back at him.

“No, this is done,” Frey declared, standing and extending a hand to me. “Gentlemen,” he dipped his chin to the table then turned to Mother as my fingers curled around his and I rose. “My queen,” he murmured.

“Drakkar,” she murmured back.

Frey moved me away from the table then flicked a hand at the chair he’d vacated, eyes still on his queen.

“Your seat,” he whispered, her lips tipped up slightly then she rose gracefully, glided to the head and sat, her eyes moving to the men around the table and Frey moving me from the room.

When we were in the hall and out of earshot, I leaned into my husband and squeezed his hand, whispering, “Well done, my handsome husband.”

“Mm,” he murmured, eyes straight ahead. “I’m glad you think so, my wee wife, but this means no adventure for you for a time. We have word Baldur returns and I will need to stay close to show my support to our new leader.”

I pointed my eyes straight ahead too and muttered, “I’m sure I’ll find something I can do.”

I felt Frey’s eyes on me, kept mine aimed at the hall then I heard Frey sigh.

“Indeed, you will and this terrifies me,” he muttered back and that was when I allowed myself to giggle.

So I did and I did it loud.

* * * * *

That evening…

Late.

My body pressed to and straddling my husband’s long, muscular frame, I kissed his throat as I felt his hands move up the skin of my back then I lifted my head and looked down at him.

“I don’t believe I’m going to say this,” I told him. “But I think I like your brothers.”

His arms wrapped around me as he muttered, “It wasn’t only me who sat at my Grandmother Eugenie’s knee when I was wee.”

I smiled at him and slid a hand up to curl around his neck. “I take it Franka didn’t spend a lot of time with your Grandmother.”

“Franka was busy stealing her handmaids’ hair pins and ear bobs, concealing them amongst her other handmaids’ possessions, whispering in the right ears and then watching as false accusations were thrown, unbeknownst to the accuser they were false, and then watching tempers flare. She had little time for Granny’s knee.”

I could believe this.

Frey’s arms gave me a squeeze and I watched his face grow serious.

Then he stated gently, “My wife does not sleep soundly.”

I felt my face go soft even as the pads of my fingers dug into the skin of his neck.

He would notice, Frey would. He would notice and worry.

God, I loved this man.

“Baby,” I whispered.

“Tell me,” Frey whispered back.

My hand slid up and my thumb slid out to stroke his jaw as, stalling, I asked, “About what?”

“About what keeps you from a sound sleep,” he answered patiently, knowing I was stalling.

I studied his beloved face.

We hadn’t talked about this. Any of it. There wasn’t time. Much was happening, we were travelling everywhere, I had a lot on my mind and I had Frey back, all was well, I didn’t want to relive it, any of it and Frey had let this be.

But now I saw he was biding his time.

“What parts do you want to know?” I queried.

“All of them,” he replied.

I held his eyes. Then I sighed.

Then I whispered, “I thought you were dead.”

“I know,” he whispered back.

I kept whispering. “I thought I said terrible, ugly words to you before you died.”

He kept whispering too when he repeated, “I know.”

“Frey,” I breathed, not really wanting to go on.

“Finnie,” he gave me a squeeze, not wanting me to keep it bottled in.

I looked at the pillow beside his head then my eyes went back to his.

“I took lives,” I said softly.

“You did, wee one, and I am glad of it for if you hadn’t you might not be lying, naked, astride me.”

This was true.

“I…” I faltered then confessed the worst of it, “after I killed Phobin I not only rubbed Broderick’s nose in it, I rubbed his nose in his defeat.”

Frey grinned at me.

Yes, grinned.

Then he burst out laughing, pressing his head back into the pillows and everything before he rolled me so he was on top.

And after he did this he was still laughing.

“Frey!” I snapped, his laughter died to chuckles and he focused on me.

“I wish I was there to see that,” he said through his dying mirth.

“It was not my crowning moment,” I retorted sharply.

“Let us see, my wee one, he killed your father, Alyssa, and nearly killed Thad and me. You lived over a month thinking I was dead and drowning in sorrow and guilt for the last thing you did was shriek at me. He imprisoned your mother, was the architect of a number of faceless soldier’s deaths –”

“All right, all right,” I cut him off, “I get it but hello? Frey? Remember awhile back when I lectured thousands of people about mercy? And, there I was, getting in Broderick’s face about –”

He lifted a hand to my jaw, thumb to my lips and he pressed lightly.

Then he said softly, “You will note it was not me who stood up when Viola was being pelted with ice missiles and demanded mercy for her and it was not me because her actions meant I stood to lose you. With Broderick, you thought you had actually lost me and you knew you again lost a father. I think succeeding in four short days in bringing him low and setting the rebellion into disarray, you can excuse yourself for gloating.”

Well.

I had to admit, he had a point.

I decided not to respond.

Frey knew why and grinned.

Then his grin faded, his hand slid to my neck and he said quietly, “We must speak of what I did to you.”

I shook my head. “No,” I replied. “All’s well that ends well and, thank God, it’s ended well so no, Frey, we never have to speak of it.”

“You say this, Finnie, because you still hold the pain of guilt, all that time you thought I was lost. That dark shadow runs deep in you, my wee one. I see it at times, drifting across your eyes when you look at me.”

“Frey –”

“But had we not been attacked in the middle of that episode, you would have been entitled to an explanation, wife, and you still are.”

I tried to waylay him by explaining, “I know that it’s, uh… law, um… here, in this world, for the man to decide if birth control is used or not and if the woman doesn’t adhere to his, uh… decision she can be sentenced to serve the realm.” Frey stared at me and I finished. “Uh… I told Aurora everything that night after Father… after we put Father… when his boat…” I sucked in breath. “Well, that night Mother drank two bottles of wine all by herself and I fell asleep while she did it and so did she and you had to carry both of us to bed, I told her what happened and she explained it to me.”

“This is not the same in your world,” he guessed.

Women who did or did not take birth control against their male partner’s wishes serving a term of nine months sentenced to do light work in castles, hospitals or orphanages?

Uh… crazy!

“No,” I confirmed. “It’s the woman’s choice unless she’s married and then they decide together and until they do… well, she just takes it, mostly. I don’t know, I’ve, uh… never been married until, well… now.”